


Zebra crossings.

by RussianSunflower3



Series: Sunflower's WHUMPTOBER 2018 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Gen, Major Character Injury, Mild Gore, Prompt BLOODY HANDS, Truck-san strikes again!, Whumptober 2018, except this time it's a car, hit and run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 10:50:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16157519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianSunflower3/pseuds/RussianSunflower3
Summary: A team trip to an ice cream parlour takes a life-threatening turn when a complete idiot ignores the zebra crossings.





	1. Mio

“- And _that’s_ why watermelon is clearly a berry!”

“Please shut up, Oikawa.”

“No, I’m telling you the truth! Strawberries aren’t berries! Watermelon, pumpkin, and bananas are!”

“It’s literally in the _name_ , it’s a straw _berry_ , fuck your science!” Iwaizumi tackles Oikawa, roughly mussing his hair, and although Oikawa squawks like he’s surprised, it’s clear to see he’s play fighting back.

Trailing behind them, Hanamaki sighs and Matsukawa full on grimaces with teasing disgust.

“Can you _not_ flirt in public, or are you just that indecent?”

“I wouldn’t bother, Issei, they won’t hear you over their foreplay.”

“M-Makki! Don’t be fucking rude!” Grinning now that his friends are suitable flustered, and hearing Matsukawa’s small snicker next to him, Hanamaki flashes a peace sign at his captain.

The third years aren’t alone either. The whole team walks together, leaving the school campus and heading towards the ice cream parlour just ten minutes away. They’ll go out together frequently, but usually after going home first.

Today is a nice day though, and since the light of day was already threatening to leave, they’d decided to go straight to the parlour. 

Matsukawa stops momentarily to look behind him, checking the second and first years are still tailing after them. Yahaba and Kindaichi seem to be having a vivid conversation, Watari listening in intently and laughing on occasion.

Kyoutani drags a stick he’s picked up against the ground, not actively doing anything with it, but occupying his hands. Kunimi, half asleep from their exhausting practice, leans against Kindaichi’s shoulder as he keeps pace.

“Oiiii, keep up~.” His playful encouragement spurns Watari into jogging forwards with a burst of speed to catch up, steadily followed by Kindaichi and Kyoutani. Kunimi lags behind with a groan at his ‘pillow’ being taken away, but Yahaba drags him forwards. 

Feeling a little guilty at leaving his best friend behind, Kindaichi slows to walk besides him again, giving him a quick smile before launching back into his rambling from earlier. Matsukawa huffs as he watches them, turning his attention back towards when the front when he notices something.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa are getting awfully close to the road… And although it’s not a busy street, it’s notorious for speed racers. So much so, that there were three zebra crossings along this one road alone.

“Hey, pack it in.” The two break apart, Oikawa’s hand grabbing a handful of Iwaizumi’s hair and Iwaizumi tugging on Oikawa’s cheeks, and they blink at Matsukawa inquisitively. Hanamaki tugs them away from the edge. 

“Next time you wanna throw yourselves in the road, maybe _don’t_ do it in front of us? I don’t feel like filling out a witness form today.” It might be said as a joke, but Hanamaki’s concern is palpable. There _have_ been fatalities along this road.

Sadly, most of those are children from the primary and nursery school nearby. They spill out the school gates straight onto the path along the road, merrily sprinting towards the sweets shop opposite, only to be met with a car instead. 

The three zebra crossings had been implemented to prevent those tragedies happening again, but some people in the world were just assholes who refused to consider the lives of others. 

“Sorry, Hanamaki. We’ll be more careful.” Iwaizumi steps away from the edge of the road to make his point, but then steps back to allow a man with a pram to pass through, obviously on his way to pick up his child from the school.

“Oh dear. We’re going to have to weave through hoards of children.” The words might seem like exasperation, but Yahaba is clearly amused instead. He has 5 younger siblings of his own. The five year old quadruplets - demons, he calls them - and his two year old baby brother.

It might _sound_ like a nightmare, but Yahaba adores children and is very family-orientated, hoping one day to have a tiny army of his own. Not that he would ever phrase it as ‘tiny army’. That seems to be what Watari has dubbed any of his friends children - because of course he’d be the cool uncle.

The funniest thing is that he’s already claimed any of Kyoutani’s future children as his godchildren. Kyoutani’s expression at that had been a riot.

“Okay, let’s walk on the outside so the kiddies stay on the inside of the path, but be careful of the road.” Oikawa’s captain voice leaves no room for arguments - but he needn’t demand so strictly. As much as the team tease him, they deeply respect him and the decisions he makes regarding volleyball, and other people. 

Aligning themselves into single file so prams and pushchairs can still fit through, along with the never-ending stream of children that have begun to filter out their school and preschool, they push onwards.

Kunimi seems annoyed at losing his pillow _again_ , but Kindaichi still reaches behind him with a hand for Kunimi to hold, making sure he’s keeping up. It’s a sweet sentiment, something his best friend has done for years.

Despite the single file line being Oikawa’s idea, Iwaizumi leads. Mainly because Oikawa is talking animatedly to Matsukawa, the latter nodding along quietly and chuckling in places. A startling rev in the distance has Iwaizumi’s brows furrow.

“Car coming. Fast, by the sound-” He doesn’t even as time to finish his sentence before the car comes speeding over the top of the hill at the end of the road, hurtling along at a terrifying pace. It would only take seconds to reach them. 

“ _Mio!!!_ ” A mother cries for her child, the seven-eight year old having tripped on the zebra crossing as her mother pushes a pram with one hand and pulls her 3 year old to safety. 

There’s no way Mio would be able to get up in time. There’s no way the stunned child with sore, scabbed knees would be able to move out the path of the car in time.

What happens next feels like slow motion. 

The screams of the mother fade into silence as Oikawa watches, eyes widening fractionally with every millisecond, though it feels like a eternity. Kunimi’s hand is suddenly cold. A flash of white steps onto the zebra crossing, propelling himself forwards, unbalanced and going to fall for certain.

Hands scoop up the little girl under the arms and uses the last of his forward momentum as he falls to throw her safely out of range, into the arms of a parent standing besides the mother.

The speeding car rams into Kindaichi instead.

The sharp crack of the impact shatters the slow motion feel like glass in a mirror, and Oikawa suddenly registers the ache in his lungs as he watches the car skid, and then carry on with no regards for the boy it’s just sent sprawling across the road, slumped against the tar, motionless.

The little girl, safe in the arms of an adult, cries and breaks the tense silence. Cries erupt from the children that witness it, adults react in all kinds of volumes, a call for someone to ring an ambulance heard above all, and Kunimi _screams_.

“ _ **KINDAICHI!!!!!**_ ”

It’s raw and emotional and there are unshed tears in his eyes, and before he can run straight into the road without looking, Kyoutani pulls him back, turning him around so he doesn’t have to see it. Kunimi tries to fight back, but he’s breaking down and sobbing and blabbering and frantic, and Kyoutani holds a hand against the back of his head to keep his face buried in his shoulder.

Watari stays with them, knowing he’s better at comforting than first aid. Not to mention how sickly he feels, having heard what he heard and seen what they had all seen. He keeps a steady hand on Kunimi’s back, whispering comfort to him, trying not to look over his shoulder where the others have crossed to, having checked for other cars.

Iwaizumi is the first to reach where Kindaichi’s - Oh god, he doesn’t want to say body, but what else _can_ he say? - body lays slumped, unmoving, unresponsive. He’s uncaring for the state of his knees as he skids on the tar next to Kindaichi, and the first thing he does is frantically search for a pulse with shaking fingers.

His hands are far too unsteady, and his fingers quiver and he can’t find a pulse and he can feel panic building in his chest-

“Here.” Bandaged hands that are deceptively calm lead him to where the pulse is, Oikawa bottling up his stress and fear and panic, using it to fuel his mind as he thinks over what needs to be done.

Whilst Iwaizumi focuses on counting Kindaichi’s pulse - it’s slow, it’s scarily slow - Oikawa quietly directs the others around. He positions Hanamaki behind Kindaichi’s head, hands cradling his neck gently without moving it, so that if he wakes, he won’t make any sudden movements. He moves Yahaba to crouch next to Iwaizumi, holding the hands that were previously limp in a growing puddle of blood.

“Matsukawa, help me put pressure on these- these…” Oikawa can’t quite find the words for the inflicted injuries. He tugs his blazer off and Matsukawa copies, taking out anything that could be uncomfortable and balling it up 

The worst thing Matsukawa can see is Kindaichi’s side, directly where the car slammed into him, sent him flying and rolling to a heap, made that _horrific_ cracking noise. More like a crunch, dulled by a thud.

Kindaichi’s white Aobajousai blazer is slowly staining red. Oikawa carefully peels the blood-soaked blazer back just enough to reveal his side, letting Matsukawa unbutton the lilac shirt and gently folding that backwards too.

Matsukawa looks away and retches. Oikawa holds his breath. Yahaba chokes out what might be a distressed whine, might be a sob, scrunching up his eyes and turning his head away. Hanamaki and Iwaizumi daren’t look away from what they’re doing, daren’t break the focus of their extremely important job, but they know it’s bad.

They can smell the iron. 

“Oi- Oikawa, what do we do…?” The shake in Matsukawa’s voice is unsettling enough that Oikawa forces himself to breathe, slow and deep. He gazes back down at the- it can’t even be called a gash, it’s so much worse.

There is _bone_ piercing through the flesh, blood pouring from the open wound it made when it broke out the skin.

“We can’t… We can’t put pressure on it. For now, we just need to- need to mop up the blood so the paramedics can see clearly when they arrive.” Oikawa flicks his eyes up to Matsukawa’s face, tearing his gaze away from Kindaichi’s broken, abused body to catch the tight stress making itself prominent on Matsukawa’s face.

“Matsukawa.”

“Hn?”

“I need you to do this. I need you to _gently_ hold our blazers here. Soak up the blood.”

“I- I can do that.” He’s not confident at all, and Oikawa is pretty sure he can see the beginnings of tears, and oh, how he feels like crying himself, because one of their precious first years is lying in the road, bleeding out and broken and _hurt_. 

Once Matsukawa has the white blazer - now steadily being dyed with blood - pressed tenderly against Kindaichi’s shattered ribcage, Oikawa shuffles up and starts to stroke his hands along the twisted, mangled limbs, looking for prominent breaks or dislocation. 

A part of him is relieved Kindaichi is still unconscious. If he were awake, just how much pain would he be in…? Physical pain to rival the emotional sobs ripping themselves from Kunimi’s throat, probably. 

Oikawa can understand. Kunimi saw the hit just the same as he did. Kunimi had been _holding Kindaichi’s hand_ just seconds prior. Kunimi was his best friend, and now, Kunimi didn’t even know if his best friend was alive or not.

“Iwaizumi, how’s his pulse?” There’s not time for the cutesy -chan Oikawa usually tacks on. This is a serious situation.

“Faint. It- It’s there, but barely. I think it’s getting faster though. He might- He might wake up soon…” Iwaizumi voice is low and hollow and quiet. He knows that the waking up would be bad. Good, yes, because they’d have more assurance Kindaichi was alive, but bad because of how badly he’d been hit.

A volcano of fury erupts in Oikawa’s stomach. How dare his kouhai have been injured so brutally? How _dare_ people race their cars in public streets? And how _**dare**_ they have no compassion for the life-changing damage they’ve possibly inflicted?!

“Oikawa...” He vaguely hears his name in Hanamaki’s voice, but the anger makes his ears rush with static.

“Oikawa.” It’s there again, but his head swims with rage, and Oikawa rests one hand on Kindaichi’s shoulder, feather light, the other bundled up in a tight fist on his own thigh, nails digging in.

“Oikawa!”

“ _What_?” He hisses, whipping his head to meet Hanamaki’s gaze, but Hanamaki isn’t looking at him. Hanamaki is breathing hard, shaken, and his eyes are wide as he stares down.

“Look at my hands.” Slowly, as if a camera pans downwards, Oikawa’s line of sight shifts down to where Hanamaki’s hands are keeping Kindaichi’s neck stable, lest he wake.

They’re dripping.

Or more accurately, blood drips onto _them_. Oikawa doesn’t think he can stay composed much longer.

“Oh- Oh my god, that’s a head injury. That’s- Shit… I- I don’t know what to _do_!” His wail is restrained enough that only those around him hear it, and then, there’s a hand gently gripping at his sleeve. Yahaba’s tearstained face is pitiful, begging him to just do _something_ without words.

“I don’t know what to do…”

“I think… I think we have to leave it to the professionals now.” Oikawa gulps at Iwaizumi’s heavy words, registering the sirens that draw closer. He finally allows himself to break, sobs wrenched out of him from the very gut. 

Matsukawa bites his bottom lip, holding back cries of his own as the blazer soaks through, leaving blood on his hands too. He can’t help but think that if Kindaichi doesn’t make it - and that’s a _horrific_ thought - there will be metaphorical blood on all their hands.

Yahaba cries openly, his choked back sobs so heavy that Oikawa reaches across to hug him briefly before returning to where he kneels, hand on Kindaichi’s stomach and just trying to feel the rise and fall as he breathes.

It’s so _shallow_.

Iwaizumi, fingers still on the pulse, has his eyes closed, trying to count the fluttering pulse but wrapped up in the devastating impact of seeing a friend like… Like _this_. But then, maybe friend was an inadequate term. The entire team were more than that, were a family by choice.

They couldn’t deal with losing one of them. Tears drip like a waterfall from Hanamaki’s eyes onto his bloody hands, temporarily leaving a clear stream in the blood before it’s quickly replaced. 

An ambulance - not a paramedic car as Oikawa first suspected - pulls to a stop on the zebra crossing, and it’s a testament to how bad Kindaichi’s condition is when even the ambulance staff remain silent, going ashen and immediately fetching the stretcher, a neck brace, and anything else they might need to keep him _alive_.

“How old is he…?” The quiet question slips through the sobbing, and Oikawa feels his heart seize painfully, sinking into his stomach as he answers.

“Fifteen. He’s fifteen.” It registers, what he’s saying, and as Kindaichi is lifted away, Oikawa claps a hand over his mouth and chokes back another sob, latching onto the sleeve of the ambulance staff.

“Please, he’s- he’s fifteen, please don’t let him die, he’s _only fifteen_ -!”

“... We’ll do our best.” That’s not enough. That’s not a promise. That- That’s more like a hovering death sentence, unsure of what the outcome will be. Still, Oikawa lets go, because there’s nothing more we can do. 

“We have room in the ambulance for one. Would one of you-”

“Kunimi.” Iwaizumi answers before any of them can even comprehend the question, and Oikawa supposes that’s because he’s running on adrenaline and fear right now. At the call of his name, Kunimi stumbles over, frantic, and his eyes widen at the blood stained blazers, tar, and _hands_.

“Please…” _Please tell me he’s okay_ , he wants to say, but it doesn’t leave his lips before he’s gently guided into the ambulance to sit in the back, with Kindaichi. He tries not to look. Tries not to pay attention to the beeping and the machinery and the technical talk. He tries to pretend he’s just sitting in the car on the way home, Kindaichi napping on his shoulder.

Kunimi doesn’t dare to peek, knowing he’ll only see his best friend’s crumpled body and so much blood. The ambulance doors close, and Matsukawa shakily pushes himself to his feet, as if he’s going to stumble after it, chase it all the way to the hospital. 

The atmosphere is still unsettled, and Yahaba wishes it would rain, because at least then it would seem like the world is just as sad on the outside as it is in his heart. A firm hand squeezes his shoulder, Kyoutani on one side, and Watari helping him to his feet on the other.

Slowly, Iwaizumi stands too, and Hanamaki follows whilst staring blankly at his bloody hands, hoping this won’t be the last memory he ever has of Kindaichi. Oikawa still kneels on the floor, sobbing into his forearms with his hands tightly knotted in his hair.

A tiny hand tugs at his sleeve, and he jolts out of despair to blink rapidly at a small child who also cries, her whole body convulsing with hiccups.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Nii-chan got hurt ‘cus of me! I’m sorryyyy!” It’s Mio. It’s the girl who fell on the crossing. But as she bawls her eyes out, Oikawa can’t find it in himself to be angry. He’s not going to blame a small child for tripping. That was an accident. 

Whoever drove the car was to blame. That was _not_ an accident.

Oikawa reaches out and hovers his hand over her shoulder. Her mother - also tearful and cradling her baby close - nods to give him permission, and Oikawa gently places the hand down, giving Mio a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s not your fault. Kin-chan will be okay, he’s- he’s tough~.” The words feel like cotton in his mouth. He hopes they’re true, but he’s going to be overwhelmed with guilt if they aren’t. Mio wipes at her little eyes, sniffling.

“Re-Really? He’ll be okay?”

“... I hope so, Mio-chan. I hope so.”


	2. Sleep.

Kunimi hasn’t left the hospital in six days. For six days, he’s sat in this chair or taken naps in the futon on the floor. Normally, he wouldn’t be allowed to stay beyond visiting hours, especially as Kindaichi wasn’t a relative, but the nurses had been kind.

Maybe because he had been so torn up that he just… Shut down for a while. 

“Nii-chan, Nii-chan!” A faint smile tugs at his lips as the door to the room slides open and Mio comes skipping in, large bouquet in her arms. She brings a fresh one everyday, a thank you to Kindaichi for saving her life.

Her innocence and optimism, plus the way she had instantly befriended Kunimi, had pulled him out of a very dark place he was heading towards. His hand still threaded with Kindaichi’s, he looks away to see which flowers she’s brought today.

“Hello, Mio-chan.” She’s drowned by the borage and peony bouquet, but her smile shines through anyways. Kunimi huffs in amusement. _Courage and bravery_. They were the perfect flowers to represent what Kindaichi had done for a scared little girl.

“Is he ‘wake~?!” Kunimi’s heart sinks a little and he wordlessly shakes his head. Mio frowns momentarily, but replaces it with an expression of contentedness. 

“I brought a book to read to Nii-chan, but it’s a Key Stage 6 book, and I’m only Key Stage 2.”

“I’ll help you read it. Where’s your mother?” Mio settles the bouquet in the bedside vase as a nurse had shown her the first time, taking out the old flowers and carefully wrapping them up to go home. 

“She’s parking! She let me run aaaaaall the way up here though, ‘cus I promised I’d be good!” Kunimi pulls the smaller kiddie chair closer to him so Mio can sit besides him, somewhere he can read over her shoulder and help her with words or sentences she doesn’t understand.

Even at seven, though, she has really good reading comprehension. 

“It’s called Black Beauty, an’ it’s about a horse! He’s a very sad horse at first, but then he gets happy.” Kunimi knows the book well, but he humours her all the same as she climbs into the chair and settles.

“Ah, it sounds good.” Mio clears her throat very seriously, and begins to read, clear and vibrant.

“The first place that I can well remember was a large pleasant meadow with a pond of clear water in it. Some shady trees leaned over it, and rushes and water-lilies grew at the deep end. Over the hedge on one side we looked into a plowed field, and on the other we looked over a gate at our master's house, which stood by the roadside; at the top of the meadow was a grove of fir trees, and at the bottom a running brook overhung by a steep bank…” 

She continues reading even when her mother slips in the room, three year old child toddling behind and baby in a sling, nodding respectfully to Kunimi and settling in the chair across the room. As Mio reads, Kunimi brushes his thumb over the back of Kindaichi’s hand.

He isn’t expecting the hand to suddenly squeeze around his fingers, and he jolts with surprise. Mio stops her reading with a small chirp of surprise.

“Nii-chan?”

“... Kindaichi…?” Another tiny squeeze. Kunimi gasps and his chair screeches back against the floor as he stands, holding Kindaichi’s hand a little tighter and firmer, his free hand going up to smooth back the fringe that hangs loose from lack of hair gel.

“Kindaichi! Kindaichi, oh my god, please… Please wake up, you can hear me right, I know you can! Please, we’re waiting for you…” another stronger squeeze, and then Kindaichi’s facial features screw up with pain and confusion before he’s peeling his eyes open, squinting in the hospital light.

“He’s awake, he’s awake, he’s awake!”

“Mio, quiet down.” The seven year old claps her hands over her mouth at her mother’s gentle reprimandation, stage-whispering an apology. Kunimi chuckles warmly, but his attention snaps back to Kindaichi when he hears what could potentially be a word, if it weren’t blocked by the breathing tube.

“It’s okay, don’t try to talk. You’re awake… You’re awake! Oh, Kindaichi, I was so scared…” Lunging forwards with emotion, Kunimi hugs his best friend as tightly as he can without disrupting wires, and silent tears drip onto the pillow. 

Slowly, still a little disorientated, Kindaichi moves his sluggish arms to wrap around Kunimi, just resting them there comfortingly and closing his eyes. He remembers everything. But he regrets nothing.

Even if there’s still pain and discomfort beneath the massive amount of drugs he must be on, he wouldn’t have changed anything. He hums under his breath, nuzzling against Kunimi’s shoulder despite the mask on his face, wordlessly apologising and promising not to scare him like that again.

It only takes moments for a nurse to answer the call button, and he calls in a doctor to help him assist Kindaichi’s condition, before the breathing tube is removed, replaced by a simply mask. Kunimi helps him take the first few sips of water in six days, and tucks him back in.

“Nii-chan, can I say hello?” The tug on his shirt reminds him he’s not the only one in this room.

“Ah~, let me help you up.” He lifts Mio up to sit on the edge of the bed, and she crawls to sit there shyly and waves.

“Hi~.” Kindaichi’s eyes widen in recognition. He manages to lift his arm - the one not in a cast - and wave back. Mio giggles sweetly, and then leans forwards to place a tiny kiss of gratitude on his forehead.

“Thank you for saving me, Nii-chan! I was really scared, an’, and the car was suuuuper fast an’ I thought I was gonna get squished, but you saved me! M’really sorry you got hurted though…”

“ _Hurt_ , Mio.”

“Oh! I’m really sorry you got _hurt_ , but thank you. I’m not scared anymore, an’ I look both ways before crossing the street, an’ I never run across the road!” Kindaichi nods along with each point she makes, eyes shining with pride and a small smile on his lips.

He wants to say that he would do it again if he had to. He wants to say he would have tried to be quicker, if it could rewind to that point. He wishes he could comfort her, tell her it’s okay and that she doesn’t need to be sorry for his own decision.

“Mio, now Kindaichi’s awake, would you like to read your book again?”

“M-... Mi- Mi-o. Mi-o. Mio…” It’s the first word Kindaichi’s said in six days. Kunimi tears up a little, smiling so wide it hurts his cheeks, because Kindaichi is awake, and Kindaichi is okay, and Kindaichi is already healing. Mio gasps with delight.

“He said my name, he said my name, Mother, he said my name!!!” Mio’s mother laughs as she rises out of her chair, coming over to the bedside. She ruffles Mio’s hair affectionately on the way over, and then stands next to the bed.

“Hello, sweetheart.” Kindaichi waves his tiny little wave, as much a he can manage at the moment.

“I- I thought… I thought, when she fell, I was going to lose my daughter… I thought that… That the world would be cruel enough to rip her away and- and nothing could be done… I thought she was d-de-...” She cuts off with a small sniff and turns away to compose herself, clearing her throat and pretending like she’s not crying.

“Bout you saved her. You- You saved her, with such courage and such _kindness_ , I- I almost didn’t believe it until the-... The car hit _you_ instead. I’m so glad… So glad someone like you was there, and- and that you made it through.” She sobs a little, clutching at Kindaichi’s good hand.

“Lord knows my daughter wouldn’t have.” She bows, as best she can whilst still in Kindaichi’s line of sight.

“Thank you, thank you for saving my precious little Mio… Even when I couldn’t.” Kunimi turns away to give her a moment of privacy as she weeps, noticing how Kindaichi tries to reassuringly squeeze her shoulder, but mostly ends up patting her. 

“Mio-chan, let’s go and see if everyone else is coming, okay?”

“Okaaaay!” In high spirits, Mio marches out into the corridor, holding loosely onto Kunimi’s hand loosely. His eyes widen when, not planned by his ruse to give Mio’s mother a private moment, the rest of the team is heading towards him, still in their volleyball gear.

They come by each day after practice, but he must have lost track of time with the sheer _joy_ of Kindaichi waking up.

“Kunimi? Y’okay? You look like you’ve been crying…” As he wipes away tear tracks, Watari’s eyes dart toward the room door in a panic.

“Is he-!?” A small laugh catches in Kunimi’s throat and he shakes his head, crying again but with tears of happiness. Mio suddenly leaps forwards, like a star, speaking the words Kunimi can’t muster through his overwhelming happiness.

“Nii-chan’s awake! He’s _awake_!” Oikawa repeats the words in an awed whisper under his breath, until it finally registers, and he twists around to shake the closest person - Iwaizumi - by the shoulders.

“He’s awake! Kin-chan’s awake!” The room door slides open, Mio’s mother no doubt startled by the commotion as the boys cheer, but comforted by their joy. She steps aside to let them barral past, scooping up Mio as she tries to sneak in with the crowd.

“Not now, Mio~. Let’s give them some time, okay?”

“Hmm… Okay! But _only_ if I can bring Black Beauty back again tomorrow. I didn’t get to finish it for Nii-chan!”

“Alright, I promise. Come along now.” Kunimi waves as he watches them go, and then wrestles his way back through the swarm around Kindaichi’s bed to his usual chair, not afraid to use elbows to shunt his way through.

Kindaichi smiles up at him, but his attention quickly goes back to the rowdy team clamouring around him, telling him what he’s missed, and he grins as much as his bruised, broken body can manage. 

He’ll get there, he knows, it’s just going to take time.

Kindaichi is glad, more than anything, that he was lucky enough to survive. They saved him, he knows.

What Oikawa may not have been aware of was that Kindaichi could hear him the whole time. Iwaizumi, Hanamaki, and Yahaba must not have known he could feel their hands on him. Matsukawa didn’t know Kindaichi had been listening to him. 

They had saved him. With their attentive care and constant presence and just knowing they were there, Kindaichi had found the strength to fight through the pain and keep living. It had just been proof how much they loved him, that they had taken his blood - and his _life_ \- unto their hands.

He clears his throat, and silence falls as the team wait for his voice to fill their silence.

“I- I… Love… All yo-ou…” 

There would be blood on their hands no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I COULDN'T DO IT. I COULDN'T KILL MY FAVOURITE BOY.  
> That said, there may be a sequel to this later on in WHUMPtober!
> 
> Please kudos and comment~!

**Author's Note:**

> Whumptober is going strong!   
> Please kudos and comment~!


End file.
